


Just A Spark

by allaboutthebooz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Platonic Relationships, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 06:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allaboutthebooz/pseuds/allaboutthebooz
Summary: The reader has a hard time adjusting to reality.





	Just A Spark

**Author's Note:**

> A simple One-Shot.
> 
> Feedback is gold!

Waking from a Djinn attack is one of the most emotionally shocking things that could happen to anyone. Hunter or any normal person. To believe that you are living the absolute perfect life. To believe that you have everything you ever wanted. To believe that your dead loved ones, were never dead. Then, to have it all ripped away. To wake up to realize it was just a terrible dream, created by a monster. How do you cope with that? Hunters just move on. Normal people, on the other hand. They barely survive.

To wake up to a pair of brothers standing over you in a rusty warehouse, telling you that everything will be okay. They tell you that you were attacked, but that you will be okay. They tell you that everything you saw was just a dream world created by some creature. What they don’t understand is that everything was okay. Everything was perfect. Your family was alive. You mom and dad. Your sisters. They were all live and you were all happy. You were all together for Thanksgiving. You all gathered at your parent’s house. Your older sister was home from over seas. You had an entire week off from work, so you were able to fly from Seattle to Atlanta. Your little sister was home form college. Everything was wonderful.

Now you must accept that it was all a lie. You have to accept the fact that your entire family is dead. They were killed when you were all coming back home after going Black Friday shopping. A woman fell asleep behind the wheel while she was driving home after her double shift at the hospital. She ran your car off the road. The car rolled down the hill, deep into the trees. You don’t know how long you were left hanging upside down. All you knew was that when you woke up in the hospital with a brace around your neck, your right arm and leg in a cast, and a few broken ribs. When your doctor came in to talk about everything, you asked him about your family and that’s when he told you that none of them made it. Just you. Lucky you.

It had been four years since the accident and you were just finding yourself becoming the person you used to be. You hadn’t returned to Atlanta after the funerals. You took everything you wanted most from your parent’s house and let them sell it as it was. You cleaned out your little sister’s dorm room. You received the flag and bullet casings at your older sister’s military funeral. You moved on as best as you could, but it was hard when those you were closest too were suddenly gone.

You don’t remember the Djinn finding you. You don’t remember being strung up and attached to a blood bag. You don’t remember him slowly drinking you dry for months. You just remember being happy to be with your family in your fantasy world.

So, when the Winchesters found you and brought you back to their home, you blamed them for not allowing the genie to kill you. You were right where you wanted to be, and they took it all away. You hated them. You closed yourself off in the room that they gave you. You never answered the door when they brought you food or fresh clothes. You never spoke a word to them. You only left your room to shower, use the bathroom, or to get something to drink when you knew they were asleep.

They offered you books to read, journals and pens to write in, a small tv to watch, and a radio to listen to. That was how you filled your time. Wondering why you were still there. Wondering why you hadn’t gone back to your apartment and job in Seattle, like you should have. Maybe it was because you were scared. Scared of having to go back to the reality that was your life. The reality that your family was gone. The reality that you were alone.

Weeks have passed since the brothers brought you into their home. It was Three o’clock in the morning, when you decided to sneak out of your room to get something to drink and maybe a small snack. You kept your feet quiet as they moved along the tiled floor of the Bunker. Eyes down, occasionally looking up to make sure you didn’t bump into anything. When you came to the kitchen, you were expecting it to be completely dark, but it wasn’t. Instead a few of the smaller lights were on, leaving the room mostly dark with enough light to see where you were going. You stood frozen in the doorway, as you spot the older brother, standing in front of the counters making a sandwich and humming a Metallica song.

He hasn’t noticed you, so you debate if you should quickly get something to drink or if you should just back up and quietly head back to your room. Choosing option number two, you slowly turn to head back.

Dean notices movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to see what is was, expecting to see Sam. Except, he see’s your back. “Hey.” He says quietly, causing you to go stiff and cautiously turn to look at him. Your eyes, bigger than usually. Probably from the shock of getting caught. “I’m making a sandwich. Do you want one?” He sees your eyes shift from him to the plate in front of him and back up to his face. He sees the internal debate inside of your head. Your eyes flick to the plate again, before you slowly nod and look back at him one last time. He smiles. “Awesome. Take a seat. It’ll just take a minute.”

You lightly gulp and move over to the table behind him. Watching him move around to gather more supplies for an additional sandwich. After five more minutes, Dean turns with two plates in his hands, setting one in front of you. You look from the plate in front of you and back up to him, giving him a small nod as he gives you a slight smile. You watch him sit across form you and pick up his food. He takes a bite and notices you haven’t moved to start eating. “It’s alright. I didn’t do anything to it.” You start to shake your head, trying to tell him without using words, that you weren’t thinking that. He just smiles and lets out a small huff of a laugh.

You relax a little bit, picking up the sandwich in front of you and taking a small bite. You can feel him watching you. You shift your gaze up to his and give him a small smile as you chew. Letting him know that it’s good. You both sit in silence as you finish the food. When you’re done, he gathers both plates and puts them in the sink. You stand and move to the fridge. Opening it and pulling out two bottles of water. Offering one to Dean, which he takes. “Thanks.” He says.

You give him a quick smile. You can feel the air grow awkward as you shift from foot to foot. Debating if you should say something. Anything. Before you get the chance, he seems to decide for you. “Well, uh, goodnight.” He tells you as he moves passed you to head to his room.

Gathering the courage before he reaches the doorway, “Wait.” You call quietly. He turns to look at you. You can see the shock on his face. He wasn’t expecting you to say anything. He tries to cover it with a neutral expression but fails. You twist your hands around the bottle in your hands, it crinkles under your grip. “Um, thank you.”

“No problem. It was just a sandwich.” He gives you a crooked smile.

“Not just for the sandwich. For everything. For saving me and bringing me into your home.” You bite your bottom lip before continuing. “For not giving up on me.”

He moves a little closer. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“I mean it. I spent so long hiding and being hateful. All I wanted to do was die. It’s been hard trying to get a grip on my reality again. It still is.” You look down at your bare feet before moving your eyes up again. “I mean, I haven’t even said a word to you, since I woke up, but you and Sam still treat like I’ve lived here forever. You don’t even know my name.”

“Well, we didn’t want to push you. I know what it’s like to be under the affects of a Djinn. I understand how tough it is. We figured you would come to use when you were ready.” He tells you with a softness in his voice.

“Well. Thank you, anyways.” You give him a smile. “It means a lot.”

“Anytime. Can I at least know your name now?”

You let out a small laugh. “It’s Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N. Welcome to the family.” He smiles, winks, and turns to head to his room. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

 

“It’s just a spark, but it’s enough to keep me going.” -Paramore


End file.
